


Homeward Bound

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings (Movies), Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gimli escorts Legolas home after the war, but some obstacles stand in their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homeward Bound part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story written from the vastly different points of view of our two main characters. There are many more stories in this series written in first person, but for some reason this is the only one we wrote in third person. For our stories to make sense you must accept our au ideas on the age elves reach adulthood which is around 1,000 years old according to us. Professor Tolkien says otherwise, but we have respectfully decided to ignore that!

After days of travel they had left Rohan behind them and crossed the Anduin. Now the pair of them were moving steadily northward. Fangorn was behind them and the open plains were finally giving way to the trees of Eryn Lasgalen, yet Legolas felt no joy as he looked northwards.  
Arda marred, how true that simple phrase was. From the Pelennor, fields where freshly dug mounds sheltered the glorious dead, through Rohan’s rolling plains, where small hamlets and farms stood empty, their burned roofs and blackened timbers a mute testimony to the terror and death wrought by Sauron and his minions in the fighting during the spring and summer.  
True there were signs of renewed life. Fields being tilled, rebuilding, even laughter and song as men toiled to build new and safer lives for themselves and their families. Mortal kind were resilient, far more than he had given the majority of them credit for. He had always thought that Estel was exceptional, but the quest had showed him that there were many who deserved his respect: Théoden, Eomer, Imrahil, Faramir, as well as the Hobbits. But one other had had the greatest effect on his admittedly somewhat jaundiced views on mortal. That someone was riding behind him now and snoring as loud as a dragon.  
Legolas’ lips twitched, knowing that should be accuse Gimli Gloinson, his hirsute and occasionally heavy handed guardian, of sleeping he would likely get his ‘pointy ears’ boxed for giving the dwarf ‘sauce’ as Samwise would describe it.  
Their relationship had changed. It had grown and flourished as they travelled both on the Quest and in the wake of Sauron’s fall. While Legolas sometimes found the dwarf’s demands of good conduct and sensible behaviour a trial, still he knew without Gimli’s support he may not have survived to be riding home. There had been several times on the Quest when Legolas had needed the strength and doughty endurance of his dwarven minder to ground him and give him hope. Had Gimli ever faltered in his belief that they would succeed? Legolas did not know and doubted he ever would. Were all dwarves as unyielding as Gimli? Did they never question their abilities to endure? They were like the stone and metals they mined and forged: obdurate, indomitable. Once given, their friendship was unwavering and Legolas knew he had been fortunate indeed to have gained the friendship of Gimli, son of Gloin.  
He snorted silently. There had been times when he rather wished Gimli did not care quite so much for him. These were the occasions when the dwarf declared that some scheme, idea, plan, or activity that the elven prince had decided upon was not to be undertaken under any circumstances.  
Gimli had strange ideas over what was ‘safe’ or ‘appropriate’ and woe betide any elf who ignored his dictates. That way led to scolded ears and scalded rears.  
Arod nickered softly, drawing Legolas back to the present and his mood darkened once more as his keen eyes took in the distant skyline of blackened and twisted trees that marked the southern edge of what men had once called Mirkwood or Taur-e-Ndaedelos- the forest of dread.  
His anger grew. After all it was not the fault of the trees that such evil had taken up residence amongst them and poisoned the land and water around Dol Guldar.  
In the final battles of the war many trees had been destroyed by fire. It had cleansed much of the evil but now the blackened, charred trunks seemed to call to him, to demand to know why he had not been here to protect them. The urge to take some sort of revenge out on any of Sauron’s minions flared again in his heart.  
Gimli had warned him several times already over his desire for retribution, and his penchant for taking that revenge against any remaining evil beings without proper thought as to safety. The dwarf understood his need for action, for some release, but he cautioned prudence and sense. ‘You cannot take on the whole world alone Laddie. There are times when we must pass by and let others, with more strength in numbers than we, take on the task of ridding this land of foul beasties. We must learn to pick our fights. I did not see you safely through the war to take you home to your Ada injured or worse!’  
A pout of quite alarming proportions appeared on the elven face as he recalled these words; he was no child, no novice warrior. He knew his strengths and limitations, and his anger at the damage done to his beloved forest would be paid for in blood by those who had perpetrated it. He would just have to be careful that was all …  
There was a loud snort behind him as Gimli woke suddenly, and demanded to know where they were.  
“We are almost at the edge of the forest my sleepy friend.”  
There was an immediate denial of course. “Sleeping? Nonsense lad, I …”  
“You were merely resting your eyes.” Legolas finished for him, grinning wickedly as Gimli spluttered loudly.  
“Ye cheeky young whelp, for that ye can be the one who goes looking for our supper tonight. Ai but that is a dreadful sight lad,” he added as he caught sight of the forest on the horizon. “Your folk must have wept for the loss.” He patted Legolas’s arm comfortingly, “Yet I don’t doubt they have already begun to heal and plant, you’ll see things will not be as bad as we fear.”  
Legolas wanted to believe his friend but his heart wept at the devastation he was seeing as they rode closer.  
Blue eyes narrowed as he promised himself that the next nest of Orc, Warg pack, or even spider colony he came across was going to feel the full might of his wrath, dwarven minder, or no dwarven minder.  
Gimli's pov *******

“Where are we?” Gimli sat abruptly upright, startled to sudden wakefulness.  
“We are almost at the edge of the forest my sleepy friend.”  
Sleeping? He certainly had not been asleep. He was bone tired and saddle sore from days upon days of continuous riding. For a certainty his neck was stiff, his back aching, and some parts of him would never be the same again from so much time in the saddle. Dwarves were not cut out for being horseback, but he had endured it since it meant getting his charge home that much faster. Yes Gimli admitted to himself that he was tired, but asleep? Never! He was quick to let the elf know. “Sleeping? Nonsense Lad, I …”

“You were merely resting your eyes,” Legolas laughed.  
“Ye cheeky young whelp! For that ye can be the one who goes looking for our supper tonight,” Gimli feigned irritation, but truthfully he was happy to hear the teasing tones of his elf. It had been too long sinceLegolas had found a reason to smile or laugh over anything.

After the final battle, when victory had finally been realized, there had been much rejoicing. They had conquered the shadow, defeated Sauron. The good residents of Middle Earth would now be able to move forward with a true hope for security and peace. There had been great loss of course, but Arda was resilient and the future had not looked so bright in a very long time. Gimli had another reason for being elated over the victory as well, for now he would be able to fulfil the promise he had made, and bring his elfling home alive and relatively unscathed to his father. Relief had flooded through him once he had realized the worst was over and they could begin the journey home. Gimli had sworn to do his best to look after and care for Legolas and dwarves took oaths very seriously, but fulfilled duty was not the only reason for his joy. He could not pinpoint exactly when or how it had happened, but over time he had grown to care deeply for the lad. He had not said it out loud, but he had actually begun to regard the elf as his own son, so being able to see him safely home was a grand triumph for the dwarf.

It had not been an easy task either, for Legolas had a real penchant for taking extreme risks and endangering himself at every opportunity. The dwarf had truly despaired at times over some of the stunts he had pulled. Often he found himself just closing his eyes and holding his breath as the elf darted precariously about from tree tops or high cliffs or the like. Gimli did not know if all elves were like his particular charge, but he often felt as if he were trying to capture a whirlwind and hold it in his hand. Legolas had some outrageous ideas over what was ‘perfectly safe’ for him to do, and the dwarf had not always seen eye to eye with him on such issues. At those times Gimli had felt duty bound to step in and put a stop to the madness, sometimes with a fairly heavy hand, especially in the beginning. Later a sharp word or two would usually be enough, and Gimli had congratulated himself when he had once been able to squelch a particularly foolish scheme with only a cleared throat and a raised eyebrow. After all they had been through together, it seemed to Gimli that the ride home should be mostly uneventful. How wrong he had been.

Once the initial excitement of victory had waned and the journey home had begun, the two friends had gotten their first real look at the aftermath of the war. Gimli’s heart had sunk as he took in the sights before them. Buildings destroyed, crops ruined, forests charred. Bile had come up into his throat at the sight of the hastily dug graves, many of them with only a smooth pebble or bit of charred wood as a marker, and some of the larger mounds gave evidence of mass burials. The devastation was shocking, and the thought of the tears that had been shed over lost loved ones heart wrenching. Many would not be coming home to be reunited with their friends and families. This thought reminded Gimli that the princeling’s father must be nearly insane with worry over the safety of his only child, so he became even more determined to make haste. Besides, he worried over the effect that the evidence of so much carnage was having on the lad. Legolas’ mood had grown very sombre and then nearly hostile to the point where the only topic of conversation was about taking revenge on the evil beings that had caused so much horror and destruction.

A few days into their journey, he had found the elf splattered with black blood and ruthlessly stabbing the corpse of a stray orc that he had already tracked down and killed with an arrow. It was then that the dwarf had realized that they were not safely home yet. Legolas’ deep need for vengeance could end up getting him killed, even this close to their goal. He proceeded to make it clear that there was to be no more stopping for such distractions. There would be a time for retribution perhaps, but this was not that time. For now they were to make a straight path for home and safety and others could take care of ridding the area of foul creatures. Legolas had tried to argue, but Gimli would not budge from this plan. It seemed to the dwarf that this discussion had been repeated almost hourly since then and his patience was beginning to wear thin.

Now as they approached the southern borders of Eryn Lasgalen, his hope that things would not be so bad here were lost. He scanned the forest’s edge and saw very little evidence of anything green and growing. Only the blackened skeletal remains of a once thriving forest as far as the eye could see. He felt nauseated to see it, and knew that what Legolas was feeling must be worse by a hundredfold considering his close ties with this place and his affinity for all living things. To him it would feel very like seeing the burned corpses of old friends. In spite of this, Gimli felt he must remain positive.  
“Ai but that is a dreadful sight Lad. Your folk must have wept for the loss,” He patted Legolas’ arm and tried to sound cheerful, “Yet I don’t doubt they have already begun to heal and plant. You’ll see things will not be as bad as we fear.”

Legolas did not answer but the dwarf perceived a stiffening of his back as they continued on into the forest. They rode along in silence for some time, though Gimli never removed his hand from his friend’s arm, lending him his support and strength. The sound of a sharp intake of breath caused him to look in the direction the elf was looking. There he saw the grisly remains of an orc carcass. It was not difficult to determine what had happened here. A pack of orc had stripped their fallen comrade of its gear and left it to the wild beasts of the woods to do with as they pleased. Clear tracks could be seen going all around the corpse and then disappearing into the woods. The most inexperienced of trackers would be able to follow them.

“Are they still in the vicinity, Laddie?” Gimli had come to rely on the elf’s keen senses.

“No they are not. They have moved on.” Legolas gave his thoughts away by clasping the hilt of the knife he was carrying at his belt, “However it would be the easiest thing in the world to…OW! Gimli!” This said in response to a sharp slap to the side of his thigh.  
“There is more where that came from if ye finish that sentence, Elfling!”

“But Elvellon, you must understand! This is my home! They have destroyed our forest! They must be made to pay for this…OW! Could you stop smacking me, Dwarf?” Legolas rubbed his thigh and frowned fiercely at his guardian.

“I will stop as soon as you stop thinking what you are thinking. We have been over this time and again. I have made a commitment to seeing you home safely and that is what we will be doing without being sidetracked at every turn. I refuse to bring you home dead from your own carelessness, but I have no qualms at all with bringing you home sore and sorry. I’m certain your ada would cheer me on, if he knew what you were planning and this close to safety too. Now let’s hear no more about such ridiculousness!”

Legolas whirled around and leaned in close to Arod’s ear, urging him on at such a pace that Gimli nearly toppled off backwards. Gimli clutched at the elf’s tunic and kept his seat, however, as they sped on for several minutes. Gimli ignored this little outburst of temper since he recognized it as being borne of frustration and despair. It did not take long, though, for the dwarf to call a halt. He had been on the back of a horse for way too long already this day and they needed what was left of the daylight to gather what they would need to camp and to hunt for whatever sort of creature could be found living in this desolate woods. Even if he were unable to find anything to shoot for their dinner, Gimli felt it would be well for the elf to make the effort. Perhaps the exercise and the hunt would be helpful in relieving some of his growing resentment. He might be able to blow off a little steam and come back in a better frame of mind. So while Gimli cared for the horse and began setting up their small camp, he sent his elfling off to hunt with a warning to be careful and to behave. And of course he was not to even consider going back to the path where they had seen the orc tracks.  
Legolas' pov: ‘You are not to even consider going back to the path where we saw the orc tracks,’ Legolas mimicked under his breath as he strode off through the blackened trees. As if I am elfling who has no more sense than a fly!"   
How could Gimli consider leaving those vile creatures to go free? He had seen the devastation and destruction they had caused. He knew that they were evil incarnate, yet he advised, nay ordered him to ‘leave them be’.  
The elf's right hand rubbed reflexively against his thigh. It was still smarting even after all this time. It was a reminder to him of Gimli’s determination to keep him focused on getting home safely and to do as he was bid and he had first hand- he snorted- make that very first hand experience of what happened when he ignored or defied his guardian.  
Of course he wanted to get home, to see his father and the rest of his family, to see for himself the extent of damage done amongst the trees around the stronghold. He wanted to get home so he could do something to make up for his year of absence. Increasingly he was wondering if his skills had been missed, wondering if he had been present would some of this terrible devastation have been avoided.  
Standing quite still, Legolas allowed his senses to reach out around him; there were no sounds of rustling leaves, no singing amongst the branches as the wind danced. No birds, no small mammals moving along the forest floor although off to the east he could hear the sound of running water which he decided he would go and investigate next. Perhaps there were still some living things here. To the east he could hear Gimli puttering about setting up their camp. Other than that there was silence. Putting out a hand he laid it against the bark of an oak hoping to find some life still within its blackened twisted trunk there was nothing.  
As he walked he tried again with a tall beech and this time was rewarded with the tiniest flicker of life, yet rather than relief the beech sent out a foul stream of vitriol, screaming out its rage at the way it had been abandoned by elven kind and left to suffer and die.  
Legolas pulled his hand away, shocked at the hatred he felt, and in that instance his mind was made up. No matter the warning Gimli had given he was going to find and slaughter the Orc who had recently defiled this wood. The beech would have some revenge. Blood would be shed to renew the land.  
Yet he must not be incautious. If he was to avoid Gimli finding out what he had been doing he was also going to have to provide food for supper.  
It would not do to give the dwarf any opportunity to challenge his lengthy absence by coming back empty handed.  
Swift strides took him to the small stream mercifully now clear and wholesome, running down towards the edge of the forest. It was a small sign of the renewal Gimli had talked of, for fresh water was a necessity for other life to begin to return to the shattered forest. Following the stream Legolas saw the first few shoots of green covering the burnt and barren land. It lifted his spirits still further when in shallow pool protected from the worst of the fires he found brown trout and wild shallots growing at the water’s edge but this find was not sufficient to cause him to change his mind on his course of action.  
It was the work of moments to kill three plump trout for supper and to dig out enough of the roots to add to their meal. He left fish and roots in the cool of the stream and stepped away. He was now going to hunt other creatures altogether.  
It did not take him long to find the path the Orc had taken. From the tracks he could discern there were no more than four of them. Obviously they were fleeing northwards to the mountains, to find shelter in the caves there amongst the goblins. Well these four would not find that shelter, he swore silently. They would instead find death here in the woods and their foul carcasses would feed the soil and allow new life to flourish.  
It was not long before he caught up with the remaining Orc. They were arguing over the way the dead Orc’s armour was to be distributed amongst them it seemed. Their guttural voices carried for some distance and Legolas was able to come quite close, despite the lack of cover from the trees that he would normally have access to.  
The foursome were so engrossed in their dispute they did not sense any danger until two of them had been cut down by elven arrows through the heart. The other pair scrabbled for their weapons before rushing towards the elf who stood on the edge of the clearing. His twins knives sang as Legolas took the fight to the duo, one blade cutting off a head neatly while the other stabbed the neck of the remaining Orc.  
As he spun and retrieved his knives for one last attack, Legolas felt the sharp sting of a slice on his arm from the Orc’s blade. Then he swung his knife, despatching the fourth beast with a clean strike.  
In the moments that followed his attack Legolas heard nothing but his own erratic breathing. Slowly he lowered his weapons, relaxing his battle stance.  
Having ensured that the Orc were indeed all dead, he carefully wiped his own knives on the edge of the nearest Orc’s tattered cloak before re-sheathing them. They would need to be properly cleansed soon but they were fine for now. By the time he had retrieved his arrows the thundering of his heart had eased. They were dead, and he had taken his revenge. Normally he would have disposed of the bodies through fire, but that was not an option given that he wished Gimli to remain in ignorance of his actions.  
Legolas looked dispassionately at the dead Orc. Did he, feel remorse for having taken their lives so arbitrarily? He was sure he did not. They deserved death for what they had perpetrated on others. And he would kill again just as quickly and without regret if he had to, yet Gimli’s voice echoed in his head warning him not to let battle lust over take him.  
"We must not lower ourselves to their level Lad. That is the slippery slope to oblivion and loss of control. We must not become like them in our desire to get revenge."  
He felt the satisfaction he had felt at slaughtering such beasts of Sauron slip. Was he truly becoming as they?  
Shrugging off such thoughts, he turned on his heel and moved back through the dead and dying trees, retracing his steps until he came to the pool. Here he cleaned his twin knives before turning his attention to his own clothing and hair, which was bespattered with sticky black blood. The light was beginning to fade and he was aware that he had been absent for quite some time so he hurried with his ablutions. Rinsing the blood from his tunic and undershirt and hiding the cut he had received by tugging up his arm bracer to cover the injury, he trusted to the darkness to hide his damp hair and clothing from Gimli’s gaze.  
As he stepped into the clearing where Gimli had set up their camp, the dwarf looked up and Legolas heard the relief in his voice as he called out. “I was beginning to worry about you Laddie.”  
Offering a reassuring smile in return he replied, “No need. I found a stream with clean water and a plentiful supply of fish. We will have trout for supper Master dwarf.” He held up the fish.  
“Trout ye say? Well now that will make a pleasant change and what is that ye have hidden in your other hand?”  
Legolas held out the shallots grinning as Gimli clapped his hands together in delight. “A veritable feast indeed. Here now,” the dark eyes took in the disheveled appearance and damp clothing, “what have you been about? Never tell me you fell into the stream in pursuit of these trout?”  
Legolas shifted uncomfortably, having forgotten how good the dwarf’s night sight was. “Nay of course not,” Casting around for something to distract Gimli with, he suggested they move the camp to the pool. “For this is a dark and cheerless place and Arod could do with some grazing however little there is.”  
Gimli seemed uncertain for a moment then said “Aye if ye like. I admit to liking the idea of fresh water to go with this trout.”  
The move was made swiftly enough, and with setting up a new camp and then the pleasure of eating fresh fish after days of little more than Lembas, Legolas was hopeful that Gimli would forget to inquire how the elf had gotten his wet clothing.  
Once the meal was eaten Gimli insisted on taking the first watch. “Get some sleep lamb. Ye look tired to me” he ordered. Legolas for once did not argue for unsure if it was just a reaction to his recent fight or perhaps the fact that he was deceiving his friend, he was feeling somewhat uncomfortable and was happy to roll himself up into his cloak and try to get some sleep.. The fingers of his right hand reached under his bracer to scratch at the cut on his left arm as he did so.  
********


	2. Homeward Bound part 2

********  
Chapter 2  
Gimli sighed in frustration as he watched the elf moved out of sight into the charred woods. He could see that Legolas was nearing his limits and it was only a matter of time before he would let his fury boil over like steam from an unwatched teakettle. The condition of his beloved woods had clearly been almost too much and Gimli knew his charge’s emotions were simmering on the brink of explosion. It was vital that they make all haste, before the child did something completely foolhardy and got himself injured or killed. Gimli knew he could keep him contained with reasoning and threats for a certain amount of time, but eventually that time would expire and he would act first and think later, damn the consequences. That is if he got the opportunity to think later, for later might never come, just as it had never come for so many others. Gimli shuddered at the thought. How he wished they could continue on without letup until he was able to see the elf reunited with his father, but he knew that was not possible. Even if the dwarf could keep such a pace, and admittedly he knew he could not, Arod could not be so ill-used. Thinking of the horse brought his mind back to the task at hand.

He stroked the horse’s velvety nose, before unburdening him of their gear and then set about feeding and watering him from the supplies they carried with them. Gimli hoped they would be able to find clean water in this area, so the poor beast could drink his fill for a change. As much as he hated riding horseback, he still had come to appreciate the gruelling pace this particular beast had allowed them to keep. With Arod’s help, they should be able to arrive to their destination in record time. He took his time building a small fire, in case Legolas would come back with something to cook. If there was anything available to hunt, he knew the elf would find it, however Gimli still did not expect anything. Even he could see that no wild creature would be able to survive in this desolate wasteland that had once surely been teeming with life. That was all there was to setting up camp. He looked through his pack and found his pipe, filled it and tamped down the pipe weed. Lighting it with a small flint, he leaned back against a black tree trunk and waited. And waited. He knew hunting might take a long time so he did not worry right away. In fact he had hoped that by sending the lad to hunt for food, he would be somewhat distracted from his single-minded thoughts of revenge. Perhaps it would even be better if it took him a good long time. The concentration of hunting might improve his frame of mind enough that they would have a better chance of making it to safety without a crisis.

Dusk began to set in, and then full dark and still the elf did not come. Gimli began to fear that something had befallen him, though in this stark, leafless forest he did not see how anything could sneak up on the elf to do him any harm. Almost he was ready to call out, when Legolas returned, carrying three good-sized trout.  
“I was beginning to worry about you Laddie.” Gimli said in relief.  
“No need. I found a stream with clean water and a plentiful supply of fish. We will have trout for supper Master dwarf.”  
Gimli became suspicious when he heard this. A plentiful supply and yet he had been gone for so long?  
“Trout ye say? Well now that will make a pleasant change, and what is that ye have hidden in your other hand?”  
Gimli admired the wild shallots that were held out to him. Now this was good news indeed, for it had been many days since they had eaten so well and the fresh vegetation proved that the forest could still support life, no matter how small. As Legolas handed him the shallots, Gimli got his first proper look at him. He was soaked, and not just around the edges as would be expected of someone who had been fishing in a shallow stream. No his clothing was entirely drenched and his hair was still dripping as if he had gone for a swim completely dressed. Gimli’s eyes narrowed, “What have you been about? Never tell me you fell into the stream in pursuit of these trout.” Legolas stammered out a quick denial and then shifted nervously from foot to foot. He put on a look of innocence and hurried to change the subject, all actions that the dwarf had come to recognize as meaning the elfling had been up to something he should not have been.

Then everything became clear: the long absence, the wet clothing, the incriminating behaviour. He had tracked the Orc! It was the only explanation that fit. All his reasoning and warning and threatening had meant nothing. Likely less than half an hour ago, he had been covered in orc blood, which explained the wet clothing and hair. Gimli felt as if his head might explode in frustration, and he ached to shake the brat until his teeth rattled, but he closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts before saying anything. Under normal circumstances such blatant defiance was not to be borne, and the dwarf had his ways of making his displeasure with such actions painfully clear, but these were hardly normal circumstances. Gimli reminded himself that the goal was to get the lad home. While it was true that he had behaved carelessly, he was in better spirits than he had been for a long time. He seemed calmer, and Gimli hoped this would last long enough for them to make it the rest of their way to their destination. There was a time for everything, he told himself, and this was the time to feign ignorance. There had been no real damage since the lad was clearly unharmed, so he would leave the discussion on what his expectations as to obedience were until a later time. As hard as it was, he would pretend not to know what had taken place, at least for now. Of course he now realized that the only way to prevent him from doing such a thing again, was to keep him always in sight, and that was what the dwarf intended to do. He would not take his eyes off of him again until they were safely inside the stronghold, no matter how much the elf protested. This would not happen again!

Gimli played along with Legolas’ attempt at distracting him. He helped move the camp, and then enjoyed the meal of fish and wild shallots. Gimli was exhausted, but knew that if he were to allow the elfling to take first watch, that he would not bother to wake him up, and would end up taking both watches. So he ordered him to sleep and was surprised when there was no argument. He watched the elf roll himself into his cloak and Gimli’s anger abated and his heart twisted as he watched him toss and turn in a fitful sleep. It was painful to see him so distressed but there was no help for it, so he just wiled away the hours watching the restlessly twisting body. He would have liked to take both watches himself and let the lad sleep through the night, but he knew he would not make it far tomorrow on no sleep at all and he hoped to travel some distance come sunrise. So though he hated to do it, he gently shook his sleeping friend.  
“Come, Lad, it’s time to wake up now.” Gimli was surprised when there was no response. Normally the elf was immediately alert with the slightest of changes around him. He tried again and this time the eyes opened just a sliver. Never had he seen Legolas so slow to wake up. After a few more attempts, the elf sat groggily up and rubbed his bleary eyes, then blinked several times as if he were trying to get a handle on where they were.  
“Are ye all right Laddie?” The dwarf wondered if perhaps he should have taken both watches after all. Obviously the rigors of the day, along with the distress over the conditions around them had taken a toll.  
Legolas blinked once more, and recognition filled his features as he caught sight of the dwarf.  
“Aye, of course I’m fine, Master Gimli. Sleep. I will keep watch now.” Gimli frowned in concern, but could see no way around it. His body demanded sleep. He reclined on the ground, but stayed close enough to keep the elf’s slender wrist clasped in his hand. This way if he took a notion to go after any foul beasts, he would not be able to do so without waking him.  
********

Normally the path of his dreams was a place to go and find the peace that had been sadly lacking in his life for so many yeni, but Legolas found this time that his dreams were filled with dark images. Blackened trees came alive and moved around something like the ents save these trees were tainted by the evil of Sauron and were intent on gaining revenge on those who had left them to die in agony.  
He twisted and turned, becoming increasingly agitated yet did not seem able to free himself from the horror of it all.  
Then he felt something take his arm and he struggled even as a voice he was sure he knew called out to him.

"Come, Lad, it’s time to wake up now.”  
Struggling up as if through deep water Legolas attempted to focus his gaze only to find total blackness. .He panicked before realizing his eyes were closed. A circumstance that usually only occurred when he was injured or exhausted.  
Prizing open his eyes he had to make a great physical effort to sit upright and he wavered uncertainly for a moment.  
“Are ye all right Laddie?”  
That was Gimli and he sounded worried. Legolas attempted to recall why that would be, but it was only after he had blinked several times that the cobwebs began to clear.  
They were on their way home, they had stopped to make camp, memory flooded back. The Orc! Whatever he did he had to make sure Gimli did not find out about his disobedience over the Orc. He plastered a smile on his lips and hastened to reassure his friend.  
“Aye, of course I’m fine, Master Gimli. Sleep. I will keep watch now.”  
Legolas could see that Gimli was concerned but he was also very tired so he offered his own warm blankets to the dwarf and prepared to keep watch for the rest of the night.  
It was only as Gimli’s first sonorous snores reverberated around their camp that Legolas realized the dwarf had clamped one enormous hand around his wrist effectively holding him prisoner.  
He held himself still for a while until he was certain that Gimli would not notice him slipping his hand free and replacing it with one the dwarf’s own gauntlets. Gimli muttered and turned as Legolas released himself and held his breath, until the dwarf fell back into sleep.  
Letting out the breath he had been holding, Legolas stood and flexed his legs. He felt unaccountably stiff and tired. Attempting to free himself from this unusual lethargy, he walked over to check on Arod who was contentedly cropping the first green shoots of the reeds at the edge of the stream.  
Kneeling down Legolas splashed water onto his face. There was little moon, but he could just about make out his features in the pool. No wonder Gimli had been concerned. His braids were loose and his clothing messy. Fetching his pack from where it had served as a pillow, he found a clean shirt and a bone comb and hurried to make himself look more presentable. He was pleased to see that the cut he had received was already healing although the area around it still felt a little tender. He was sure by the time they made their next camp it would be completely gone and Gimli would never know of his recent altercation with the Orc.  
Still, he would have to be careful. The dwarf was naturally suspicious and far too sharp eyed as far as Legolas’ well-being was concerned. He should have taken more care and not have returned to the camp with his clothing still wet, but he had not wanted to give rise to further suspicion by staying away any longer and Gimli had thankfully been distracted by the thought of trout for supper. The consequences of his being found out by his guardian in disobedience and obfuscation would be severe indeed. It was unlikely however that he would be so fortunate again and he knew it.  
As he waited for dawn and the dwarf’s awakening Legolas filled his time by catching two more fish, which were baking in the ashes of the fire when Gimli finally began to stir.  
Yet when it came to eating he found his appetite completely gone. He could no more have swallowed the sweet flavoured flesh than an Orc arrowhead. He made his excuses, telling Gimli when he began to fuss, that he had eaten earlier while the dwarf slept.  
“I hope that is so Laddie. Ye eat like a bird at the best of times, and you are looking increasingly pale and peaky. Are you sure you are well?”  
“I am fine, and I thought you wished us to make good time this morning?”  
This seemed to satisfy the dwarf who said no more but hurried to strike the camp and announced that indeed he wanted to get many leagues covered this day.  
“The sooner I get you back to your Ada the happier I will feel lad. I do not like this place at all, and I can see it is beginning to affect you as well.”  
Legolas did not answer but leapt up onto Arod’s back and then reached down to haul his minder up behind him. As he did a sharp pain ran down his arm making him groan.  
“Laddie?”  
“You must be putting on weight Master Gimli” Legolas managed a laugh to cover his error “I had not expected you to be so heavy.”  
“Humph chance would be a fine thing, get along do.”  
The pair of them rode steadily northwards all morning with little conversation between them. The land they were travelling through remained blackened and for the most part lifeless. Legolas was glad that Gimli was with him. The dwarf’s presence was a comfort to him even though he was quiet for once. Maybe he too was growing uneasy.  
Just before midday the sound of birds flying overhead made Legolas raise his eyes skywards. As he did so his whole world seemed to spin out of focus, and he almost fell from Arod’s back as he attempted to regain his balance.  
“Laddie?” Gimli grabbed the back of his tunic doing his best to keep him in place.  
“I am just a little disorientated … I am well,” he hurried to reassure the dwarf.  
“Aye well let us get down for awhile. I could do with a rest from bumping along like a sack of flour on the back of this beastie.”  
As he slid from Arod’s back Legolas felt his legs give out beneath him and he fell to his knees, the last he heard was the dwarf’s anxious voice calling  
“Lad, Legolas what is it?”

Gimli smiled to himself as when he woke up to the welcome aroma of fresh fish baking. The elf had used his time keeping watch to useful purpose it seemed. The smile turned to a frown though as he realized his plan to keep the lad near his side had failed miserably. His sleep had been deep, and so he had never noticed when Legolas had freed himself from his grip. Clearly he had been catching fish, and Gimli wondered what else he had been doing. But when he sat up and looked around, he saw that that there was no evidence that his charge had been up to anything but innocent pursuits. He had changed clothes and even re ordered his hair so that he had returned to his usual pristine appearance. On first glance, Gimli thought he looked much better than he had the evening before, but when he moved to sit across the fire from him, the dwarf could see he had been wrong.  
Legolas was normally pale, but now he was positively white and dark circles decorated his weary eyes. His hand trembled slightly as he dug out the fish from the ashes of the fire, and then when it was time to eat, he claimed to have already eaten while the dwarf had slept. Gimli did not believe this for a second. Oh he knew the elf would not outright lie to him, but also knew he was not above deception. Likely he meant he had eaten when the dwarf had slept three days ago. Over the past months Gimli had learned how to ask the right questions to get honest answers. However this day, he decided to let it pass, just showing a hint of his distrust of the answer.  
“I hope that is so Laddie, ye eat like a bird at the best of times, and you are looking increasingly pale and peaky. Are you sure you are well?” Almost he wanted to scold over the elf having slept in wet clothing the night before. He would have done so, had he not known that elves were not susceptible to colds and chills and other mortal illnesses. It did not make sense. Clearly the lad was unwell, but Gimli could think of no reason for it. Perhaps it was all due to the sad conditions of the fire-blackened forest. The dwarf felt the experience had left even so thick-skinned a being as he, reeling from the misery around him. He could only imagine how this must be affecting Legolas, who had a much more sensitive soul when it came to things of nature. Gimli had even heard that elves had been known to die from grief, so that made it all the more urgent to put some distance behind them as soon as possible.  
Legolas seemed to agree to this idea, so it was only a matter of minutes before the camp was packed and the two were once again riding north. Each seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. They rode along in silence for some time until the sound of screeching ducks came from overhead. Gimli looked up and smiled at this sign that life was beginning to return to this region. Before he could comment on this, he found himself clutching at the elf’s tunic to keep him from toppling from the horse’s back.  
“Laddie?” Gimli’s concern increased.  
“I am just a little disorientated … I am well.” Gimli had his doubts about this statement, so he pretended to need a rest, since he knew the elf’s pride would not let him admit to needing to stop.  
Legolas slid from Arod’s back, but instead of landing lightly on his feet, as he normally would have, his knees buckled beneath him and he fell first to his knees and then sideways to the ground. Gimli’s heart nearly stopped at this sight. He slid from the horse, landing with a thud next to his charge.  
“Lad, Legolas what is it?”  
In seconds Legolas blinked and looked at Gimli.  
“What happened?” he asked, sitting upright.  
“You near ended me, that’s what happened, “the dwarf answered in some relief. Legolas looked confused so Gimli answered plainly. “You fainted.”  
“Impossible” Legolas was indignant, “I did no such thing!”  
“Oh? Well I suppose you were just getting acquainted with the ground then eh?”  
“I merely lost my balance is all.”  
“You did not lose your balance,” Gimli snorted in disbelief,”I have seen you balance on branches the size of my thumb. How many times have I told you, you cannot go everlastingly on without sustenance? Now answer me truthfully. Have you eaten today?”  
Legolas rolled his eyes and shook his head almost imperceptively. Gimli frowned as he rifled through a pack and came up with some lembas. Placing it in the elf’s hand, he gestured for him to eat.  
“You know how I feel about falsehoods, Elfling! No, don’ t bother telling me it wasn’t a lie. Your clear intention was to deceive me, so there is little difference in my book.” He folded his arms across his chest and watched as Legolas nibbled miserably at the lembas. It was apparent to Gimli that he was truly struggling to eat and was not just being stubborn, so he relented after he had choked down a small bit. He took the bread from the elf’s hand and replaced it with a water skin, encouraging him to drink from it.  
“Do you feel able to continue, Lad?” Gimli said squeezing the elf’s shoulder.  
“Certainly! Let’s go.” Legolas got shakily to his feet, seemingly happy to end this discussion about his intentions to deceive his minder. With some effort, they were soon both on Arod’s back and travelling north once more. This time, though, Gimli wrapped one arm around the elf’s waist, to prevent him from slipping again, something Legolas objected to only mildly since he knew he was already on shaky ground with the dwarf.  
As the day wore on, Gimli became increasingly aware that indeed things were not well with his charge. Legolas never spoke, not even when Gimli pointed out the plentiful cattails that they saw growing quite profusely on the banks of the stream they were following. He turned his head to look, but made no comment, and the dwarf took this as a dire sign. Also he began to realize that he was supporting most of the elfling’s weight in his arm now. Had he moved it, no doubt the lad would have fallen off. So though it was only mid afternoon, Gimli decided they must stop for the day. As much as he wanted to continue the journey, it would not be prudent to do so at this juncture.  
He held tightly to Legolas’ arm as he helped him slide off the horse. The elf landed gracelessly, but managed to stay upright, by holding on to Arod’s neck for a moment. Gimli slid down next to him and took his elbow to guide him over to where grass was growing along with the cattails on the stream’s edge. He hoped being among the living vegetation would have a healing effect on the lad. He threw down his own cloak, and encouraged the elf to sit down. Only then did he get a proper look at his face. Since he had been riding behind Legolas, he had not seen that his earlier pallid face was now flushed, and the usually clear blue eyes were glazed over. Seeing this Gimli knew that something was terribly wrong. He placed the back of his hand to the crimson cheek and was shocked at the heat he felt there. This could not be the result of grief over the devastation of the forest, but he was puzzled as to what might be causing this condition in his friend. Elves were not susceptible to illness, so that left only one possibility.  
“Where are you injured, Lad?” Gimli noticed a slight flicker of surprise and then something like apprehension in his elfling’s fevered gaze. He stroked the golden hair with one hand. “Do not be afraid to tell me, child. I need to see your injury so I can help you.”  
Legolas looked at the dwarf standing above him, and tried for levity. “Do you think I was injured while catching those dangerous trout this morning?”  
“No. I do not,” Gimli said evenly, “I think you were injured while slaughtering the orc you tracked down yesterday.”  
Legolas cringed at the dwarf’s words and quickly dropped his gaze to the ground. Gimli lifted the elf’s chin until he could look into the glassy eyes.  
“The jig is up, Elfling. You can either show me your injury or I can search for it myself. In your condition, it won’t be much of a challenge, but if you would like to do this the hard way it is your choice. You have to the count of ten to decide.”

 

Legolas tightened his grip on Arod’s reins, and attempted to straighten his spine, which felt as if it were made of unseasoned willow rather than oak. He was hot and increasingly disorientated, and it was taking all his considerable resolve to stay on the horse’s back. Indeed he rather thought that it was only Arod’s training and Gimli’s arm that was snaked around his waist that was keeping him in place. Not that he would ever tell the dwarf that of course. He had tried to get Gimli to remove his arm earlier but now he was grateful he had lost that argument.  
He shook his head to clear it and wiped an arm across an increasingly warm brow gritting his teeth he stubbornly set his eyes on the faint glimmer of green he could see in the distance, determined he would reach that before giving into whatever it was that was causing his physical weakness.  
He would not faint, he would not faint, he repeated over and over in his head. He would not humiliate himself twice in one day. He still could not understand how his body could have betrayed him so completely leaving him weak and disorientated.  
He swallowed heavily wishing he had not eaten the Lembas earlier, his stomach seemed determined to expel even that small amount of food and despite his every effort he felt his body sagging back further and further.  
It was with relief that he heard Gimli call a halt to their journey. Legolas could not find it in himself to argue the decision even though it was only mid afternoon. Dismounting from Arod, he only managed to stay on his feet by holding onto Arod’s mane and by the strength of Gimli’s arm.  
Without quite knowing how, he found himself sitting on Gimli’s cloak and looking up into his friend’s concerned face. What he saw there worried him, for the dwarf looked shocked and worried.  
“Where are you injured, Lad?”  
Injured? Was he injured? How had he become injured? His brow creased as he tried to concentrate on the question he had been asked. Then the memory of the events of the night before came crashing back. Orc! Whatever he did he must not admit to disobeying his guardian. Yet the comfort that Gimli was offering as he stroked his hair was difficult to ignore.  
“Do not be afraid to tell me, child. I need to see your injury so I can help you.”  
Panicking slightly, Legolas offered humour in an attempt to distract the worried dwarf “Do you think I was injured while catching those dangerous trout this morning?” As soon as the words left his lips Legolas knew that attempting levity had been a big mistake.  
Gimli’s expression changed from concerned to angry; never a good sign where he was concerned. Gimli’s reply only served to confirm this though.  
“No. I do not; I think you were injured while slaughtering the orc you tracked down yesterday. The jig is up, Elfling. You can either show me your injury or I can search for it myself. In your condition, it won’t be much of a challenge, but if you would like to do this the hard way it is your choice. You have to the count of ten to decide.”

 

Legolas stared up into the determined face of his friend and rather than answer he let his head fall back and closed his eyes, whispering only “Not sick I …”  
He got no further for a huge finger was once more poked into his chest making him open his eyes wide, “Ye have a fever, had I not had a hold of ye you would have fallen from that great beast of yours and likely fallen on your head, although it might have knocked a little sense into it. Now if ye do not want me to strip you down to your bare skin and search every inch until I find it I suggest you tell me where this injury of yours is.”  
Weakened as he was Legolas bristled, “I do not think so.”  
The dwarf’s coal black eyes sparked angrily at this defiance. “Enough! Lie back down and let me get on with this. Do not try me any further Elfling.”  
While he would have liked to argue further Legolas found he was incapable of doing so. His hands waved feebly as Gimli began unfastening his tunic and then worked on the shirt, which seemed to be wet through somehow. As Gimli slapped his hands away Legolas fell back with a groan and closed his eyes surrendering entirely.  
It was only when his friend unbuckled the bracer on his arm that he was roused sufficiently to attempt a protest. “Ah! No it hurts.”  
“Ai, Laddie!”  
Legolas attempted to raise his head enough to get a glimpse at whatever it was that Gimli was so horrified about. Blinking hard he looked at the angry red skin that surrounded the now almost healed cut. Even the gentlest of touches brought a groan from his tightly clamped lips, now that the bracer had been removed the pain seemed to have escalated. He could feel the heat and then there was a sweet cloying smell from a small amount of pus that was seeping from the almost completely healed wound. A smell he recognized from battles long ago when he had fought as one of his Ada’s warriors and seen elves sicken and die in similar situations. There had been poison on the Orc blade, one that was slow to show itself and therefore all the more deadly since it spread silently and insidiously until the whole system was caught in its coils and it was too late to do anything about it.  
Gimli gripped his shoulder, “Listen to me, lad. I am going to build a fire and see what healing supplies we have. I will make a tea to begin with to ease your pain.”  
Legolas made a supreme effort and grabbed at his friend’s hand, “No Gimli, no time, you will have to reopen the wound. Here,” he felt around for his belt dagger, “Use this, you must make sure you have all the foul pus out else all of my blood will become poisoned and I … I will … I will …” his voice failed him and as the pain mounted Legolas welcomed the blackness as it took him.  
********  
Gimli frowned in determination as he slapped away the hands that were trying to hinder his goal of finding what he was looking for. It would have been easier, had the elf decided to cooperate, but the fact that he was being stubborn, would not stop Gimli from finding the injury he knew the lad was hiding. The dwarf’s worry amplified when Legolas gave up arguing and struggling almost immediately and collapsed back onto the ground. Gimli had managed to remove the tunic and shirt, when he noticed the bracer on the elf’s left arm. Normally it was worn on his forearm to protect his inner arm from being chafed by his bowstring, but now it had been placed on his upper arm, just above his elbow. Gimli hurried to unbuckle the bracer as carefully as he could, but in spite of his gentle ministrations, Legolas cried out in pain when the leather fell away. Gimli could understand why when he saw what was underneath. The wound was nearly invisible, but the skin around it looked painfully inflamed, and long crooked red lines snaked away from the centre as if the infection were crawling down the elf’s arm. A foul smelling pus leaked from the wound  
“Ai, Laddie!” Gimli tentatively touched the tender area, causing Legolas to flinch and cry out again. The dwarf felt he could do nothing if the lad could not tolerate even his slightest touch, so decided the first order of business was to alleviate the pain as much as possible. He grasped the elf’s shoulder to get his attention and explain why he would be leaving his side for a moment  
“Listen to me, lad. I am going to build a fire and see what healing supplies we have. I will make a tea to begin with to ease your pain.” The words seemed to cause Legolas to panic. He grabbed Gimli’s hand as if begging him to do something, but the dwarf could not make out the incoherent muttering. Legolas removed the dagger from his belt, and before Gimli knew what had happened, he had the dagger in his own hand and the elf had lost his battle to remain conscious.  
Gimli stood staring at the blade and then at his unconscious charge. What had he been trying to tell him? Gimli sank to his knees and lightly tapped the elf’s cheek, trying to rouse him, but it was no good. Fear gripped his heart as he thought of what this might mean. He should never have let the elfling out of his sight even for a second, and why had he not stopped to consider that he might be hiding a wound? He had known the elf could be very determined when he wanted do something, and was not above being deceptive at times when it suited him. He should have been more careful, especially considering what he had known about the lad’s state of mind at seeing his homeland so abused. Gimli felt heartsick and terrified. What was he supposed to do now, and why had the elf handed him his dagger in such a distraught fashion? He had only been able to make out a few words: “Not time” and “poison.” A cold chill ran down his spine and he looked more closely at the wound.  
It was strange how the cut had healed but the flesh around it was so obviously infected, and looked to be spreading and getting worse. It was as if the rapid elven healing had sealed something inside that could not find its way out, and was instead crawling around under the skin. Ah, that was it! He had said, “poison!” Orcs were known for using poisoned blades that often left their enemies dying a very slow and agonizing death. Evidently the skin had healed, effectively closing any possible way for the poison to drain from Legolas’ body. In this case, his superior elven healing abilities had made things worse instead of better. Gimli had seen the aftermath of such wounds before. Some of these toxins were designed to work slowly, so that by the time the victim acted, it had already spread throughout his whole system. His heart hammered in his chest, as he thought of the lad’s other words, “not time.” The dagger he held in his hand began to tremble as Gimli realized what he was going to have to do. The wound would have to be reopened, and he did not have time to think over if he could do it or not. There was no choice. He set his jaw and grasped the injured limb in his large hand.  
The pain of being touched brought Legolas back to consciousness. He shot up to a sitting position and almost made it to his feet, before Gimli managed to subdue him. He talked soothingly but held fast to the elf’s arm.  
“You must be as still as possible, Lad. I do not wish to hurt you, but this has to be done so you can get better.”  
Legolas was beyond all reason now and struggled mightily to get away from the dwarf. Gimli wished now that the lad had remained blissfully unconscious, but knew he had no time to wait. He pulled the elf to him and tucked the uninjured right arm under his own left arm, and gripped the elf’s left arm just above the elbow with his huge left hand. For good measure he pinned Legolas’ legs, by throwing one heavy leg over them. Offering a quick prayer to the Valar, he used the sharp dagger, held in his right hand to make a small cut over the most swollen part of the wound. The cry of agony tore at the dwarf’s heart, but he held tightly to the injured arm and set about enlarging the drain hole he had made. He was gratified to see a stream of black pus pouring from the fresh wound.  
Legolas fought weakly for a little longer, and Gimli thought he looked as if he could not understand why his beloved guardian would hurt him so. Rationally, he knew his elfling would understand, once he was thinking clearly again, but the dwarf’s heart, which was not rational, was effectively broken over what he had been forced to do.

Gimli continued to hold his struggling charge, until he felt the elf’s head fall backwards. He then loosened his grip and shifted the lad so that he was half in his lap with his head resting more comfortably against his chest. He brushed some stray hair from the pallid face and noticed sheen of perspiration was covering Legolas’ face and upper body and he was beginning to shiver. Gimli did not know if this was from the fever, or from the shock and pain, but he moved him back to the cloak that was still on the ground and left long enough to fetch all the blankets they had, along with a bit of cloth. The wound looked to be trying to congeal, so he gently squeezed the arm, encouraging the foul poison to flow freely again. He wiped the excess away and pulled the blankets up over his trembling friend. He turned to begin looking for something he could start a fire with, but before he could take a step he heard a hoarse voice behind him.  
“Gimli, you are not leaving are you?” Immediately the dwarf turned back and knelt beside his charge. The worry and pain in the fair face, took Gimli’s breath away. He picked up the elfling’s cold hand and squeezed it.  
“Nay, Child, of course not. I only wish to build a fire and make a tea for your pain. You won’t be out of my sight and I will be back before you know it.” Legolas nodded his understanding and Gimli lifted the hand to his lips and kissed the cold fingers before hurrying back to his task.  
True to his word, Gimli was back very quickly with the pain relieving tea, but the elf had already fallen into a fitful slumber. The dwarf shook him gently back to wakefulness, and assisted him to sit up and then held the cup to his pale lips. Legolas turned his head away in distaste, but the dwarf was insistent.  
“Do not fight me elfling. You will drink this and no argument!” The familiar gruff tones seemed to soothe the elf and he swallowed the tea without further protest. Within a few minutes, the dwarf was satisfied to see the agonized expression begin to soften into just weariness. A few more minutes passed and Gimli believed his charge had fallen asleep, so was surprised when the glassy eyes suddenly popped open and the elf asked another question.  
“Are you angry with me, Gimli?’’  
“I am not happy that you have been defying me at every turn and doing your best to kill yourself, if that is what you mean, Laddie.” He softened these words by stroking the smooth cheek with the back of his hand.  
“But I have a dreadful headache, and I don’t want you to be angry.” There was a certain pouting tone to the voice, and the incongruence of the sentence made the dwarf chuckle.  
“You needn’t worry, Lad. I am not angry. Not even a little bit. Now enough chatter, it’s time to sleep.” Legolas had no more strength to fight it seemed and soon he had fallen into a deep slumber. Gimli checked the wound and to his dismay found it had already started to knit back together. He wondered how many times he would have to repeat this terrible process.


	3. Homeward Bound Part 3

********  
chapter 3  
Legolas was pulled out of the warm comforting darkness with a jerk, pain flaring in his arm. Attempting to pull himself free from whatever was trying to restrain him, he struggled and kicked but however hard he tried he seemed unable to break free of whoever or whatever was imprisoning him. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain he could hear a voice he thought he knew trying to reassure him but all he wanted was freedom, freedom from pain and confinement.

Then a hurt, sharper than any other burned in his upper arm and then almost a feeling of relief from the throbbing, searing pain before the welcoming darkness beckoned him again and he fled into its sheltering arms.

His second return to consciousness was less traumatic. He was warm and comfortable. The raging pain in his arm had lessened and his mind was clear. The events of the last few days flooded back, the Orc, the injury, handing his knife to Gimli. By sheer force of will he prized open his eyes only to see his friend turning away from him.  
Panicking he called out “Gimli, you are not leaving are you?”  
To his relief the dwarf turned back immediately hurrying to his side and lifting his hand squeezing it gently.  
“Nay, Child, of course not. I only wish to build a fire and make a tea for your pain. You won’t be out of my sight and I will be back before you know it.”  
When the dwarf lifted his hand and laid a light kiss on his cold fingers Legolas managed a smile. Any other time he might have been embarrassed, now he was just relieved to have this close contact and know his friend was close by. It allowed him to relax and fall back into a light doze.  
He was woken again, by a light shake on his uninjured arm and Gimli was offering him a cup of tea. If it tasted half as bad as it smelled Legolas wanted none of it but Gimli was insistent.  
“Do not fight me Elfling. You will drink this and no argument!”  
Recognizing both determination and concern in Gimli’s voice and knowing that in his weakened state he was incapable of winning this argument Legolas allowed the dwarf to hold the cup to his lips and swallowed down the foul brew with as good grace as he could manage. He did not want to cause his guardian more trouble and the relief he saw in the dwarf’s face as he did so made the task less foul than he had feared.  
He closed his eyes briefly but could not find rest for there was something he had to ask his friend before he could sleep. “Are you angry with me, Gimli?’’  
He deserved him to be he knew, for what he had done could have cost him his immortal life and he knew that Gimli had been desperately worried about him. He held his breath as he waited for Gimli to answer.  
“I am not happy that you have been defying me at every turn and doing your best to kill yourself, if that is what you mean, Laddie.”  
Legolas shuddered at the words, even while he and leaned into the hand that stroked his cheek seeking comfort and forgiveness. “But I have a dreadful headache, and I don’t want you to be angry.” Any other time he would have winced at the whiny tone, but now he did not care. He only wanted forgiveness and he got it.  
“You needn’t worry, Lad. I am not angry. Not even a little bit. Now enough chatter, it’s time to sleep.” And sleep he did.

It was dark when he woke again and it took him a few moments to clear his mind sufficiently to recall where he was and what was wrong with him. He was wrapped securely in blankets, cocooned almost and while his arm throbbed, he felt strangely comfortable and safe for he was safe within the strong arms of his friend and guardian.  
He shifted slightly and pain flared once more in his arm and he was unable to prevent a sharp hiss of pain.  
Immediately the arms around him tightened. “Easy lad, I’m here all is well.”  
“L … let me see…” Legolas attempted to look at his arm.  
“There’s no need”  
“There is, I think it needs draining again. I can feel the heat growing and spreading.”  
He saw his friends concern and attempted to offer reassurance,” as long as we keep draining the wound all will be well.” He raised his eyes to Gimli’s face, noting the tears that trembled there and knew how difficult Gimli was finding this. “I will not fight you this time, I promise, I would not ask it of you but I need your help I cannot do this alone.”  
“I know Laddie, I wouldn’a hurt you unless it was needful, but I will do anything it takes to get you well again,” dark eyes sought the blue eyes of the elf, “only so I can kill you myself you understand.”  
Legolas gave a weak chuckle at Gimli’s humor “I understand and will be happy to let you try at least, Elvellon.”  
He was not smiling by the time the dwarf had unbound the makeshift bandages and he saw how the poison had spread while the skin over the wound was already beginning to heal again. It was plain that the wound would indeed have to be slit open once more.  
His pain filled eyes met those of Gimli who said bluntly “I can see it must be drained but this is going to hurt lad”  
It did not occur to Legolas to pretend otherwise such was the strength of their relationship, he no longer felt it was necessary to ‘pretend’. “Yes, but I can bear it better now.” From the corner of his eye he saw Gimli reach for the dagger that he had given him earlier. “Wait, Gimli.”  
Gimli hesitated then offered, “If it has to be done best it is done swiftly.”  
“I understand that, but before you begin, are there any hollow reeds in the stream I can hear nearby?” he smiled at Gimli’s puzzled expression and explained further. “If we insert a reed into the re-opened wound we can use it to drain the pus and to prevent the injury from closing again. I have seen it done before. It is not a pleasant procedure but it will be better than having to keep opening the wound with my knife. Once we have the reed in place I will be able to travel.”  
Gimli looked reluctant but when Legolas added “please.” He nodded and rose to stump off to the edge of the stream to find some reeds.  
Legolas allowed his thoughts to wander while he waited for the dwarf to return, turning his mind away from the pain of the present to the friendship he now shared with his dwarven friend. There was total trust, complete confidence in the abilities of the other. He had been fortunate indeed in his dealings with mortal kind.  
“Will these do lad?”  
Gimli’s voice broke into his musings and it took a moment or two before Legolas could reorder his thoughts, which was sufficient to tell him he was in dire straights indeed. Focusing on the reeds Gimli held in his hand he managed to nod, “they will indeed. Sh …sharpen one end to a point though, it will make it easier to insert.”  
Almost as if he could read the insipient terror in his friends voice Gimli brushed a hand over his golden hair. “I’ll do all I can lad to see you through this, trust me. If there was some way I could take the pain onto myself I would.”  
Such caring was both a boon and a trial at a time like this for Legolas knew that tears were very close. Swallowing hard he managed a somewhat shaky smile but there was no mistaking the truth in his response as he answered, “I do trust you Gimli, trust you like I do few others.”  
“That’s good to hear,” Gimli replied then added softly as if to himself. “Although I wish Aragorn or better yet Lord Elrond was here to do this. I don’t like hurting you lad not at all.”  
Wanting to ease his friends concerns Legolas managed “I … I … hope you remember that the next time you are intent on blistering my backside” before his world turned black again.

 

Gimli sighed in frustration when he untied the bandage, and saw the wound he had opened only hours ago. In the past he had been quite amazed with Legolas’ ability to heal almost effortlessly, but now that same ability was working in cross-purposes with them. The vile pus that had streamed from the wound at first, now barely seeped. Shortly, it would be entirely closed again. It would have to be reopened. Remember the suffering the elf had gone through the day before he glanced at him sympathetically.  
“I can see it must be drained but this is going to hurt lad.”  
“Yes, but I can bear it better now.”  
Gimli reluctantly picked up the knife, wondering how many times he was going to have to repeat this procedure when Legolas came up with a solution. It sounded crazy, but the elf promised he had seen it work before. So Gimli did as he suggested and went to gather some sturdy hollow reeds growing by the water’s edge. By the time he returned he could see that Legolas was growing worse again for he looked confused as to why Gimli was showing him the reeds. Gimli could see the exact moment when he remembered their purpose, because anxiety filled the elf’s eyes, though he tried valiantly to keep his voice steady.  
“ Sh …sharpen one end to a point though, it will make it easier to insert.” The bravely spoken words struck at the dwarf’s heart, for he could hear the cold fear that was behind them, in spite of Legolas’ effort to hide it. He swallowed his own trepidation, and reached out to stroke the silky hair in an attempt to comfort his friend. Gimli felt he would rather cut off his own hand than see his elfling suffering any more, but he was willing to do whatever he had to.  
“I’ll do all I can lad to see you through this, trust me. If there was some way I could take the pain onto myself I would.”  
“I do trust you Gimli, trust you like I do few others.”  
The dwarf felt ludicrously pleased with this remark, considering it a triumph of sorts given the rough beginning they’d had. Still he said simply, “That is good to hear.” And then as an afterthought, “Although I wish Aragorn or better yet Lord Elrond was here to do this. I don’t like hurting you lad not at all.”  
“I … I … hope you remember that the next time you are intent on blistering my backside” Legolas whispered. Gimli snickered at this, but his reply died on his lips when he realized Legolas had again lost his fight to remain conscious.  
Gimli knew there was little time to waste, so hurried to inspect the woody reeds he had found. Choosing one, he took up the knife and sharpened one end to a point, smoothing the edges until the surface was as smooth as silk. Next he thoroughly cleansed both the reed and the knife in water that had been boiled for tea and left in the pot. As he was doing this, he thought how he would give anything he had for a proper healer at this moment. Even the silver-golden strands of hair, given to him by the Lady Galadriel would not be too much to give for such a blessing, but such thinking held no purpose. There was no time to make it to a healer, so the poor lad would have to make do with the dwarf’s bumbling attempts. After a healer, the next thing Gimli would have liked to have access to was some sort of potion that would keep Legolas unconscious while Gimli did what he had to do.  
With this thought in mind, he looked at the cup that had held the pain relieving tea from the day before. He picked it up and inspected the contents. There was only a bit, but what was left had become thick and almost black for the leaves had now been steeping for hours. It would not induce sleep, but perhaps it would help to alleviate the pain the elf was going to have to endure for the second time in only a few hours. The dwarf thought it was worth trying. He took the cup, along with the reed and the knife and went to his elfling’s side.  
When gentle shaking got no result, Gimli sat behind the elf’s head and pulled him up until his back rested against the dwarf’s chest. He tapped his cheek and spoke his name, but still the only response was the golden head falling heavily to one side. Gimli lifted the elf’s head upright and waved the cold tea under his nose.  
“Ai, what is that foul stench?” Legolas turned away as he regained awareness.  
“I know it is smells nasty, but I want you to drink it anyway. Best have it done quickly, Lad.”

“No thank you, Elvellon, perhaps later. I would rather not at the moment.” Gimli chuckled at this for the elf sounded as if he were refusing seconds on a rich dessert, instead of trying to avoid medicine.

“Of that I am certain, Elfling, and I do not blame you at all for it will be bitter no doubt. Sadly for you, however, I was not asking if you wanted it, but was letting you know you will be having it.”  
“Oh.” Legolas twisted his neck so he could look at his guardian’s face to see how serious his resolve was over this. Seeing the dwarf’s features were set in stone, he gave in gracefully for once. He placed his hand over Gimli’s hand that held the cup and brought it to his lips, but hesitated again at the offensive odor.  
“Just take a deep breath and drink it. Quickly now.” Gimli lifted the cup, forcing Legolas to swallow the foul brew. He gagged and coughed then gagged again until Gimli feared they would lose the tea after all. He managed to keep it down, to the relief of both of them. Gimli felt strangely sad though at having had to force the bitter drink. It seemed almost too much on top of all the suffering the child had already been through, and they still had to lance the wound again. He hoped the tea would help slow the pain at least.

“All right, then Laddie, let’s have this done. The sooner we finish this, the sooner you will be able to rest and heal.”  
“But I should be able to travel once we get the reed inserted into the wound, remember what I said Gimli?  
“Aye, I remember what you said, and we won’t talk of it now. Let’s get this done.”  
“I am ready. I will not fight you this time.” He turned his injured arm so that the dwarf would have easy access to accomplish his task, but Gimli had other ideas.  
“I know you would not fight on purpose, Lad, but you may find it harder to remain still than you think. I am a warrior, not a healer as much as I wish I were right now. I do not want to hurt you, and you do not want to fight me, but the truth is, we cannot always make things the way we want them. This is going to hurt, and likely you will find it difficult to remain still. You will have to let me hold you down.”  
A lump formed in Gimli’s throat when his elfling looked at him with great trusting eyes and allowed himself to be maneuvered into the hold position from the day before. He pinned him securely and before picking up the knife, turned Legolas’ face so that he would not see the procedure take place, but would instead have his face buried in the dwarf’s beard.  
Gimli steeled himself and quickly set about making a small incision right above where the former one had been. Before he could lose his nerve, he took the woody reed and shoved it firmly into the wound point first, causing Legolas to yell out in pain and try to twist out of the dwarf’s iron grip. A cold sweat broke out over him and he sagged against his guardian’s chest. Gimli threw down the knife, and loosened his hold, rearranging the elf so that he was in a more comfortable position against him. Legolas turned his face away from the immense beard, and Gimli could see the tracks of two tears that the elf had been unable to stifle in his agony. Seeing this caused Gimli’s own tears that had been threatening for some time, to spill over and slide down his cheeks. A trembling pale hand reached up and wiped them away.  
“I’m sorry, Gimli.”  
“You needn’t be, Laddie. No one would have been able to be still under such circumstances. It was just a reflex. I know you did not intend to fight me.”  
“I don’t mean that, though I wish I had not been so weak. I mean I’m sorry for everything. You have been so good to me, and I have given you trouble at every opportunity. It is a wonder you didn’t just leave me to die in my own foolishness. It would have served me right.”  
Gimli stroked the golden head and growled low in his throat. How was he to respond to such foolishness?  
********  
As soon as the words had left him mouth Legolas cringed for well did he know how such sentiments would sit with his dwarven guardian.  
Yet the growl in the throat belied the reassurance of the hand that stroked his head so Legolas allowed himself to hope that Gimli would not be too angry with him.  
“I don’t ever wish to hear such foolish language from you again child. Do you hear me?” the tone was sharp but the hand did not stop stroking his hair.  
“I should have done as I was bid” Legolas tried to explain his choice of words.  
“Aye, that you should, and we will be discussing the reasons you did not do so when you are well enough to answer for your disobedience. But for now we have other priorities, getting you well being the main one. Although I would have thought you would have understood by now that once Gimli son of Gloin gives an oath it stays given. And more than that once that same dwarf gives his friendship it stays given as well, no matter how stupid or foolish or brash or idiotic his friend may choose to act. No Laddie you will not escape me that easily.”  
Legolas allowed his head to fall back into Gimli’s chest, and did not even attempt to hide his tears as he listened to the dwarf’s reassurance. He may not deserve such friendship he decided but he would do his best from now on to earn the right to keep it.  
“Thank you” he whispered  
“You are welcome lad. Now get some rest.”  
Legolas shook his head however, “You are the one who should rest. You look exhausted. I am capable of keeping watch for a while at least. I promise I will wake you should there be need, and Arod will help guard us both will you not mellon-nin?”  
The stallion that had been standing nearby nickered softly as if in response.  
“Yon beastie?”  
“Rohirrim horses are trained to protect their riders and to stand guard if necessary. His eye sight is at least as good as yours and he does have the advantage of height!”  
“Cheeky whelp” Gimli responded but it was plain from his smile that he welcomed the teasing as a sign his charge was improving. Legolas was happy to let him believe that for now if it meant that he would take the rest he so obviously needed.  
Even so it took some time for Legolas to persuade Gimli to settle into sleep. “I cannot sleep yet Gimli. My arm aches, it is a good ache though which hopefully means that your emergency surgery has worked. By the time you wake we should be able to restart our journey and hopefully we will be within sight of my home within a day or so. If we can only reach the trees I can send a message through them to Ada and he will send out a patrol to see us safely home.”  
“He will be unhappy with me,” Gimli mourned thinking of how he had failed to keep the child safe  
Legolas however laughed even if a little shakily, “Say rather he will be furious with me for ignoring the orders of my elders and finding myself in such dire straits. Either way, Gimli, it will be good to be home.”  
“That it will lad, that it will.” Gimli echoed as he settled into sleep. Legolas watched his friend sleep and then allowed the stoic expression he had kept on his face while he had argued with Gimli to take some rest to slip. While it was true, the cleansing of the poison was beginning to work, the pain from the inserted reed was phenomenal and it was making him feel quite sick. Still, once he was certain that Gimli was sleeping he forced himself to his feet, swaying for a moment and wondering if he would in fact lose the tea Gimli had forced him to swallow earlier. He held onto Arod’s neck until he was sure he would not do so, then took a few steps across the camp doing his best to restore his circulation before sitting down again on the spread out cloak, nursing his aching arm against his chest.  
Although to him it seemed a short time since he had collapsed, from the state of the sky he knew he must have slept for many hours leaving Gimli to nurse him through the night. Given what the dwarf had been called upon to inflict on his mainly unconscious patient and the hours of worry he had put him through, it was little wonder Gimli now slept so soundly.  
How fortunate he had been to have been in the company of the doughty dwarf, for many would have quailed at what he had been asked to do and while he was keenly aware that Gimli had not wished to hurt him he was grateful he had had the strength to do so for his life had been in the balance and he may well have died had Gimli not done so.  
Now, Legolas was keen to begin the final leg of their journey, although he knew Gimli would not approve their traveling if he was not convinced his charge was sufficiently recovered so as not to place himself at risk. He looked up at the distant green edge of the forest and wondered if perhaps he might be able to persuade his cautious companion to at least move their camp to the shelter of the trees where there might be more opportunity to catch small game and he would have the comfort of the trees to help in his recovery.  
For now he sat back and watched his friend sleep and gave thanks for that friendship.  
*************  
Gimli woke with a start. He had sworn to himself to keep his companion in his sight until they made it home, but that was easier said than done considering his body did have its own requirements when it came to the need to rest and rejuvenate. He had given in to those demands a little past dawn this morning, and by the placement of the sun could see that it was now midday. He had slept many hours it seemed. Time enough for his elfling to have crawled his way through the fire blackened forest to hunt down any foul creature who dared enter this land, and have a go at one –handed orc slaying. Given Legolas’ single-minded stubbornness, the dwarf would not have been overly surprised had that been the case, so he was relieved indeed when he saw that he was still sitting obediently on the spread out cloak, where he had been told to stay.  
“Ai, I’m sorry, Lad. I’ve slept too long. You should have awakened me long ago.”  
“There was no need. I am well,” Legolas said. “Well better anyway,” he quickly amended when Gimli raised a bushy eyebrow in disbelief. Admittedly, though, he did look somewhat better. He was still dreadfully pale, with hollow, glassy eyes, but he had lost the terrified, confused look from earlier. His mind at least seemed to be clearer. Checking the makeshift drain, Gimli cringed at the sight of it, though he was gratified to see it was working. Never would he have believed he was capable of such a feat, but a dwarf never knew what direction life would take him, and he knew he would do whatever was necessary to return his charge to health.  
“All right, Elfling you have been up too long already. Lie back down now and I’ll make you more tea. Don’t look so unhappy, child,” he added when Legolas made a face, “It will be hot this time and I won’t make it so strong, I promise.”  
“It is not the tea I am thinking of, though it was certainly vile,” Legolas explained, “it is just that I had hoped we could travel a little today.”  
“Has the fever fried your brain, Laddie? We will not move from this spot until you are looking considerably better than you do right now! Now do as you are bid, and forget such foolish notions.” Gimli stood and turned to move toward the fire and the tea making, considering the topic closed. Legolas however would not be put off.  
“Elvellon, listen to me,” he grabbed Gimli’s hand and urged him to sit down next to him, “I know you cannot see it, but we are very close to an area of the woods that has not been so marred by fire. There are growing and green things there and I long to go to them. We are likely only a couple of hours ride away. I’m sure I could make it with your help! “ He caught the dwarf’s dark eyes in his own and squeezed the large hand, “Please, Gimli.”  
Gimli would have liked to believe he could not be swayed by slowly batted eyes and sweet coaxing words, but honesty compelled him to admit that he often was. It was alarming really when he thought about how besotted he had become with his charge. He would never have believed anyone who had told him only one year ago that he would someday be so charmed by another being, let alone an elf. Not for the first time, Gimli wondered what his folks would say when they found out about this unlikely attachment he had formed. Knowing he was lost, Gimli gave in.  
“All right then, Lad we will try to move, but only if you agree to my terms.”  
“Yes, I’ll do whatever you say.”  
“First you will lie down and wait for me to make the tea and while you are drinking it, I will pack up. You are not to try to help. I won’t have you risking further injury by stumbling about the camp.”  
Gimli chuckled as Legolas immediately reclined back onto the cloak, showing his willingness to cooperate with the dwarf.  
“There’s a good lad,” he patted the elf’s hand. “Next you must promise to inform me if you feel the need to stop while we are traveling and most importantly, you are not to engage any orcs, wargs, spiders, wolves, poisonous snakes or even large squirrels in battle! Do we have an accord?” Legolas laughed at this directive and answered with a jest.  
“What if the squirrel is just ordinary sized…” he began, then changed his mind as he noticed the dwarf’s expression, “I mean yes we have an accord.”  
Gimli was pleased to hear his friend beginning to show signs of returning to his usual light heartedness, but his concern was too great to find much amusement in their situation. He was not at all confident that the suggestion to move the camp was a good one. Still he felt that if they could reach the edge of the healthier part of the forest, it would have a healing effect. No doubt it was difficult for anyone to feel well in this cheerless place even under the best of circumstances.  
The camp was small and they were traveling light, so it did not take long for all the preparations for traveling to be made. Arod seemed pleased to be carrying their gear and ready to move, as if he too was looking forward to a better location. It took some effort for Legolas to make it onto the horse’s back, but soon they were on their way north once again. Gimli wrapped a strong arm around his friend and one great hand pressed against his chest, helping to support him. The dwarf was pleased that Legolas did not attempt to argue about the necessity of this, but instead seemed fully willing to cooperate.  
After about an hour of riding, the occasional live tree could be seen in the blackened midst of the forest. In a little while longer, more and more living, green and growing trees and plants were all around and before long they could no longer smell the acrid odor of the charred woods behind them. Gimli felt his own spirits lift, especially when he realized small birds and other creatures of the woods were unusually thick here. Very likely they had all fled to this undamaged section of forest when their homes were destroyed by fire. Soon they came upon a clearing amidst a thicket of pear trees near a pool of clear water. Natural rock formations created a possible place to shelter in case of bad weather. It seemed like a place where they could set up a more permanent camp, until the time when it became safer to travel.  
Gimli slid from Arod’s back and then reached for his friend, catching him by his uninjured arm and helping him steady himself as he landed next to him on the ground. As quickly as possible, the dwarf unpacked what he would need to see that his elfling was settled and as comfortable as possible. After helping him attend to personal needs, Gimli had him once again enveloped in warm blankets and sipping again at the bitter tea, only this time he had been able to find wild mint to add to the brew to improve the flavor. This last bit of kindness seemed to have been almost too much for the elf to bear.  
“Elvellon, you have been such a friend to me. I might have died in my very own woods if it weren’t for you. You have saved my life. I do not know how I can repay you.”  
“’Twas nothing Lad. We are not keeping score and I’m certain you would aid me if I were in need. There is no scale that must be balanced. Between kin there is no tally kept, and you are the son of my heart.”  
Gimli looked away having spoken his thoughts. He was unsure how the words would be received and was afraid of what he might see in his charge’s face, but Legolas seemed pleased and comforted.  
“Do you really feel that way, Gimli? But I have become such a trial and a burden to you.” he whispered.  
“Indeed, I do and you are not a burden. I would not change the commitment I made to you for all the mithril in middle earth.” Gimli laid a gentle kiss on the still too warm brow, “Now enough talk, Princeling! This has been a hard day and you should sleep. Focus on the life around us and relax. I will watch over you.”  
Heavy blue eyes fluttered shut, and Gimli began his long vigil over his sleeping elfling.  
*******  
Legolas smiled as he slipped onto the path of dreams. In the welcoming shelter of the trees he felt far more at ease. Their voices had whispered warm welcomes as he and Gimli rode into the wood.  
And the sight of healthy trees had acted as a balm to his soul, exhausted as he was, for the ride from their previous camp site had been far more difficult for him than he had anticipated. If it had not been for Gimli’s strong arm holding him steady on the short ride he may well have fallen and that would have been the final ignominy.  
Still, he was grateful that his guardian had given into his pleadings and allowed him to travel even this short distance. For an elf, the song of the earth was like food and water to a mortal, it fed his fêa and eased pain and distress even in the short period they had been in the wood. Legolas had felt a lift in his spirits and a lessening of the anguish that had settled over him since he had encountered the Orc.  
Something else that had cheered him had been Gimli’s words ‘the son of my heart’. Who would have believed that their relationship, which had started so badly, would have been so completely changed around? It seemed they had been on more than a physical journey since they had left Imladris in the company of the ring bearer, for they had also journeyed along a road of discovery about each other and their respective races.  
At the edge of his consciousness he heard Gimli humming to himself as he tended the fire. It was a comfortable sound, one that reassured and relaxed him so that he almost forgot to press a hand to the trunk to plead with it to send a message northwards to let his father know he was almost home. Then he slipped into a healing sleep.  
*********  
Gimli stroked Arod’s strong neck and thanked him for his part in their safe arrival to the new campsite and also for waiting so patiently to have his own needs tended to. Normally Arod was cared for first before anything else was done to set up camp. This had been the standard procedure for the entire journey, but Gimli had been so concerned that this trip was ill advised, that he had been anxious indeed to get his companion settled and comfortable as soon as they had arrived. He thought Arod looked as if he understood, and then laughed at himself. Spending so much time in the company of an elf had clearly had an affect on him. Never before had he considered what a horse might be thinking.  
After taking care of Arod, Gimli next set about setting up the small camp. Moving camp had not been a mistake after all, as even he felt his spirits being lifted by the green and growing things around them. He was so relieved that they had arrived without incident and that his friend seemed to be improving in this environment, that he began to hum to himself as he tended the fire. He lit his pipe and settled down for the long hours of waiting.  
Legolas slept all afternoon and through the night. It was after dawn before he even began to stir, and by the time he opened his eyes, the dwarf was already beside him offering again the mint laced tea, this time along with a thick soup made from a duck that Gimli had managed to trap the night before. Legolas still picked at the food, but Gimli was happy to see he looked greatly improved and when he checked the wound, he found that the black drainage was now mixed with ordinary red blood, proving that the poison was clearing the elf’s system. The pair sat in silence, enjoying the freshness of the morning and the sun filtering through the dancing leaves of the trees.  
“It is a perfect day for traveling,” Legolas observed.  
“It is also a perfect day for staying put.” Gimli replied.  
“Gimli, I am truly feeling much better and we are so close now. I am certain I can make it.” When the dwarf only looked skeptical, he added, “Please Elvellon.”  
“Your wheedling ways will not work on me this time, no matter how big your eyes become. We will not be leaving this place today, nor yet tomorrow. After that we will reevaluate and make a decision about your ability to travel at that time.”  
Legolas scowled a little at this, “You mean you will make a decision. Obviously I have no say whatsoever.”  
“If you think carefully about the events of the last you few days, you may be able to figure out why that is, Elfling.” Legolas flushed at these words and changed tactics.  
“This is not fair. You have not even looked at me. Do I not look all right to you?”  
“ Well never let it be said that a dwarf would be less than fair, Lad! Let me see.” Gimli rubbed his beard and eyed his charge critically, “Not bad! A bit too tall perhaps, and it wouldn’t hurt you to put on a little flesh,” he ran a finger along the elf’s smooth jaw and chin, “and your beard it sadly inadequate. But other than that, you’ll do.” He laughed at his own joke as Legolas batted his hand away. He gathered the dishes and turned away, saying, “We won’t be taking risks with your health, Lad.”  
Gimli frowned as he heard a muttered stream of profanity from behind him. He turned back toward his elfling and pointed a stubby finger at his face. “Any more of that sort of language, and you won’t be happy with where you’ll find yourself. Now there is nothing more to be said about this!” He turned back to the task at hand, hoping the subject would be dropped, but with the returning of the elf’s health, came also the return of his stubborn determination. He stood to follow the dwarf, and further argue his case. When Gimli set his jaw and turned to face the elf, he saw that Legolas was looking not at him, but at something over his left shoulder instead. His face registered complete surprise.


	4. Homeward Bound Part 4

Chapter 4  
Legolas had hoped that his hirsute guardian would have recognized that after a good night’s sleep in the surroundings of green and growing things he would now be well enough to complete their journey. He was unpleasantly surprised by Gimli’s obdurate refusal to even seriously consider his request, and as a consequence was not in the least bit guarded in the use of his tongue to make plain his own feelings on the matter.  
When Gimli swung back towards him one finger raised and threatened, “Any more of that sort of language, and you won’t be happy with where you’ll find yourself. Now there is nothing more to be said about this!”  
He should, he knew,, have conceded but a stubborn determination to travel prevented him from taking such a sensible decision and instead he had stood and prepared to argue further.  
“There is a great deal more to be said about this … why do you not turn about so that we may continue our debate face to face or at least face to knee.”  
But even as Gimli did just that, and the look on his face warned Legolas that mentioning knees had perhaps not been a good idea, the prince was distracted by a movement on the edge of the glade they were camped in. He looked up and his jaw dropped as an elf moved out of the trees and into his line of sight.  
He made an inarticulate gurgling in his throat which alerted Gimli to the fact that they were no longer alone, yet although the elf was looking surprised and he had put his injured arm behind his back as if attempting to hide it, he was not looking concerned at whoever was behind the dwarf. Nevertheless when Gimli swung around his hand was on the shaft of his throwing axe just to be safe.  
He found himself facing a large elf who was frowning ferociously but not at him, rather at the prince behind him.  
“Your year away from your father’s halls has not improved your manners any I see.” the warrior growled. “Nor do you appear to have recalled a need to show respect to those who have your care in their charge.”  
Legolas wilted under this condemnation. Ignoring him completely the elf now turned to Gimli bowing and sweeping out a hand from his heart.  
“Mae govannen Gimli son of Gloin I am Brethilas, erstwhile body guard to Legolas Thranduilion. I bring greetings from my king Thranduil Oropherion and on his behalf welcome you to his realm. He is fully aware of the great debt of gratitude he owes you for the care of his only child in this last year and hopes he may have the pleasure of greeting you in person should you choose to journey with us to the stronghold. I would like to add my own humble thanks also for your charge of our prince while he has been absent without leave,” he added glowering at the prince, “from those whose duty it was to guard him and his life.”  
So this was the famous Brethilas. Gimli looked up at the imposing figure that stood before him and liked what he saw. Legolas had spoken of him quite often while they were on the Quest and he clearly had great respect for the elf, who had made it his mission in life to protect each generation of the House of Oropher. Recognizing a consummate warrior he offered his own greeting in return inclining his head respectfully.  
“Gimli Gloinson at the service of you and your family. Well met Master Brethilas. I am happy indeed to make your acquaintance and relieved also. Tell me do you have a healer with you?”  
Brethilas’ eyes turned back to the prince who seemed to shrink under that penetrating gaze “He is hurt?”  
“I am well on the road to recovery” Legolas hurried to put in just as Gimli pronounced,

“Aye, a poisoned orc blade,,” Gimli shook his head sadly “Nothing more than a scratch all through the war and within sneezing distance of his homeland he is hurt. And here I was thinking I was going to get the child home unscathed as I had promised.”

Ignoring Legolas as if he was not even present Brethilas turned his full attention onto Gimli. “Knowing him as I do that would have been quite a trick Master dwarf. The family Oropher is as magnets to iron when it comes to injuries. You are unharmed yourself I trust.”

“To my shame I am. I was not even present when Legolas took them on, and rather than admit what he had done, for I had expressly forbidden him to track them, or to tell me he was injured,he chose to hide the fact until he became so ill it was no longer possible to do so.”

Brethilas snorted “That sounds all too familiar a story to those who know this scion of the House of Oropher; so I will tell you that you should not try to accept the responsibility for something that was clearly beyond your control. There is but one person at fault here and he knows well who he is. Tell me about the injury.”

Tired of being ignored Legolas mumbled “There is no need. I told you I am well on the way to being fully recovered.”

Brethilas turned his head to where the prince stood yet did not seem to see or hear him. His whole attention appeared to be fixed upon the dwarf, yet when Legolas began to move forward intent on making his point this time at least, he was halted immediately by Brethilas. “Do not add foolishness to poor manners tithen mesen, it is both rude and dangerous to interrupt your elders, sit down.”

Gimli hid his smile as his charge dropped to the ground his expression mutinous but his voice silenced once more, and then he hurried to explain to Brethilas what he had done once the injury had been revealed.  
“It has been a worrying few days. The wound kept healing and trapping the poison inside to begin with, until the lad suggested we insert a reed to keep it open and to allow the poison to drain. I am pleased to tell you that when I checked it this morning the black pus was almost fully drained away and was being replaced by clean blood. I was hoping that the reed could be removed and the wound allowed to heal naturally although I was not looking forward to the procedure itself. I found it hard enough putting the reed in. I do not enjoy inflicting pain on the child.”

“No, I would not exchange places with the healers for all of Smaug’s gold. But one of my patrol has had some training in the healing arts he will assess the injury and do what is necessary. Eglan.” The elf so named appeared from the tree line, a healer’s pack in his hands, and went straight to Legolas’ side.  
Gimli and Brethilas watched as the warrior unwound the bandaging and the wound was exposed.

“Is all well?” the dwarf asked anxiously

“It is healing very well, Master dwarf. I will take out the reed and pack the wound with herbs. I am sure Master Hirinwath will say that you have done excellent work considering your circumstances. I will brew up some tea that will help dull the pain when I remove the draining tube. By your leave Corporal?”

Brethilas waved him away “Aye do so. We will make camp here for the rest of the day at least and assess whether we can travel on tomorrow morning.”

Legolas who had had fumed silently through the examination was now thoroughly tired of being ignored and as Brethilas and Gimli continued to order the day as they thought fit he burst out.  
“I am ready to travel now!”

He may as well have remained silent, he acknowledged, as neither of his minders showed any sign of listening to him. Sitting glaring at their unresponsive backs it occurred to him that if he wanted to travel home sooner rather than later he was going to have to do it alone.  
Later he would admit that he could not possibly have been thinking straight, or at all, in attempting to sneak away from a camp that not only held some of the best and most experienced warriors in his father’s realm, but also a pair of the most intransigent of worry-warts.

In fact he barely managed to make it to where Arod was tethered before he was called on his escape attempt.

“No doubt you will be telling us you are merely checking up on the beastie,” Gimli’s voice came from the darkness.

“Either that or he was ‘just’ stretching his legs” Brethilas put in.

Anger at being so easily caught was perhaps the cause of Legolas’ foolish response to this gentle teasing.  
Rather than backing down, he let loose a positive barrage of abuse at his nursemaids, informing them in no uncertain terms that he was more than capable of deciding for himself whether he was fit to travel and that he was tired of their interfering over protectiveness. He ended his diatribe with an explosive “I wish you would listen to me. I AM FINE!”

“Not for much longer,” Brethilas growled angry in turn. “So help me I have struggled to keep my hands off you so far this day, but I will not do so any longer, you are due a long spell over my knee, Elfling, and I am in just right the mood to inflict it upon you here and now.”

But as Brethilas went to grab Legolas’ arm Gimli interposed. “Peace, friend Brethilas. While my sympathies are with you in your desire to see to the laddie’s needs, I can’t let you do so now. He may tell us he is fine, but he is not. You know it and I know it and by the look of him,” dark eyes took in the drooping tired elf before them “so does he. Here child, let’s get you back to your bedroll.”

“Aye you are right Master Gimli; I should not have allowed my frustration at his obduracy to blind me from the obvious.” He scooped Legolas up into his arms and began striding back to the camp, the dwarf trotting alongside him still holding the young prince’s cold hand in his, offering his comfort and support as a tired and exhausted elfling was tucked back into his blankets. As Legolas drifted off into sleep, his thoughts were on the fact that he was very fortunate to have such a good friend at his side.

********

Gimli was relieved that he had been able to successfully halt the understandably frustrated Brethilas in his attempt to call Legolas on his less that model behavior. Not that the dwarf was any more accepting of such a display of disrespectful rudeness. Still he recognized it for what it was. The child was overwrought, exhausted, and aching to be home. While it may not be proper to behave in such a fashion, Gimli thought it was understandable, especially considering all the elfling had been through during this trying journey home. He was certain his charge would regret his angrily spoken words when his health and his usual sweet nature returned, so he ignored the scowl that was thrown in his direction as Brethilas carried Legolas back to the camp and his bedroll.  
He did not argue, though as Gimli pulled the covers up and tucked them around him. The frown that creased his brow smoothed as the dwarf spoke soft assurances, and encouraged him to sleep. He brushed back the stray hair from the child’s face and watched with satisfaction as the eyes once again drifted shut.  
They had made it. Within a few days he would have his charge home, and without further problems, no doubt, now that they were in the company of the formidable Elven warriors who had come to escort them. As he closed his own eyes, the dwarf felt thankful. Thankful the war was over and their mission had succeeded. Thankful that he was going to be able to fulfill the oath he had taken. And very thankful, that he had swallowed his lifelong prejudice and befriended Legolas, who Gimli had come to regard as dearer than any other. In spite of all the devastation they had seen on their journey, Gimli felt that Middle Earth was a beautiful place indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story there are more like it at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheLeaflingChronicles/  
> New members are welcome!


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